Moonsong Glacier ram hunt

the black ram. its defiant stance against the wind told him it was aware of their presence, though unbothered for now. formidable beasts like this did not panic—they fought, they survived.

his ear flicked toward luhtar, who moved with the same practiced precision. sólhárr trusted few as he trusted him, and their steps fell into a rhythm as natural as the falling snow.

it won’t bolt far, sólhárr murmured, his voice low but certain. but it’ll make us work for it.

his amber gaze swept over the terrain ahead—the uneven glacier riddled with hidden crevices and slick ice patches. sólhárr nodded toward the right, where a jagged rise of snow-crusted rock provided an elevated vantage point. we’ll split here. push it to the flatlands below. easier to close in.

he didn’t wait for luhtar’s reply, knowing the other would follow the plan with steadfast loyalty. sólhárr veered left, his movements purposeful and quiet despite his size. every step was calculated, his weight shifting to the pads of his paws to avoid a fatal misstep on the treacherous ground.

ahead, the ram raised its massive head, steam huffing from its nostrils like a dragon of the frost. sólhárr felt the thrum of anticipation build in his chest, his pulse quickening with the promise of the kill. this was what he lived for—the chase, the struggle, the triumph.

he glanced back once, a flicker of amber meeting luhtar’s steady gaze. keep your wits, sólhárr said, the barest hint of a grin tugging at his lips. this one’s smarter than it looks.

and then he surged forward, a shadow against the white, ready to drive the beast toward its fate.